Gift of Gold (27 page)

Verity’s resentment flickered and died. Jonas believed in this mysterious talent he claimed he had. Right or wrong, it was eating at him and had been for years. Apparently it had shaped a good portion of his adult life. She couldn’t deny him her help in this small test.

Impulsively she reached out and took his hand. “Okay, let’s go see what happens.”

Jonas’s eyes lightened and his strong fingers clamped fiercely around hers. “Thanks, Verity. One of these days I’ll repay you for the favor, I promise.”

“Forget it. Consider it a job perk. Given the low wages I pay, I suppose you deserve one or two.” Such as sleeping with the boss and playing strange psychic games with her. “Ready, Dad?”

Emerson, who was leaning against a counter, his arms folded across his broad chest, nodded briefly. Teeth flashed somewhere in his beard. “Let’s go see what happens.”

They locked the restaurant and walked along the path to the small cabin. When they filed inside and closed the door, Emerson reached under the sagging bed to pull out the pistol case. He opened it and set it down on a table. Verity thought the old guns looked sinister in the harsh light of the ancient bulb overhead. But then, she always thought guns of any kind or any age appeared sinister and quite repugnant.

“What do we do next, Jonas?” she asked calmly.

“You don’t have to do anything except sit down in that chair and try not to fight me or run from me.” He indicated one of the straight-back chairs at the table.

Verity frowned as she slipped onto the seat. “I’m not going to fight you. I agreed to do this, remember?”

He nodded, sitting down across from her. “I know, but your instincts may take a different viewpoint when they sense what’s happening. On the other two occasions when I tried to connect with you in that corridor, you were terrified.” It was disturbing to know that his memories of that mental corridor were as sharp as her own. They really had shared some sort of mental imagery. He even knew she had tried to run from him. Somehow he really had been there with her. It was the last thing Verity wanted to admit. Surely there was some rational explanation. If push came to shove, she would vote for a diagnosis of mental telepathy before she agreed with the verdict of psychometry, she decided.

Telepathy was bad enough but somehow psychometry was even more difficult to accept.

“Let’s just get this over with,” she said between set teeth. Jonas gave her a grim glance before reaching across the table for her hand. “Yes, ma’am,” he said dryly.

Emerson hovered. “Where do you want me in all this?” he asked.

Jonas looked up at him, his expression thoughtful. “Just stand nearby. If, uh, anything looks like it might get out of control, take the pistol away from me. Once I’m no longer in contact with the gun, the reaction will stop.”

Emerson’s eyes narrowed. “You going to go crazy on us, Jonas?”

Jonas smiled faintly. “I’ll be okay. I’ve got Verity. Don’t worry. I’ve already touched these pistols briefly and their impact isn’t too bad.”

“What do you mean, their impact isn’t too bad?” Verity demanded.

“I mean I didn’t sense any death associated with them,” Jonas explained impatiently.

Verity shuddered. “Oh. Well, that’s encouraging. I guess I’m ready.”

“Such enthusiasm.” But Jonas hesitated no longer. He reached into the case and picked up one of the pistols.

Jonas felt a faint, glittering flicker of awareness and closed his eyes. He felt the eerie sensation of suddenly having to share his place in time and space with something else that didn’t quite belong there. The cabin walls began to curve around him.

This was not going to be nearly as intense an experience as handling the rapier had been. But then, he had already known that. The pistol dated from a later time period. Its effect was bound to be less dramatic.

The grip of the gun was warm and solid in his hand. He felt a damp sheen of sweat break out on his forehead.

The tunnel continued to form in his mind.

He started moving along the corridor, aware of the tendrils of old emotion that seemed to be pulling him toward one end. He ignored them for the moment, concentrating on finding Verity first before he
tried to deal with the sensations of the past. He could sense her presence somewhere up ahead in the misty shadows that drifted in the endless corridor. With the sure sense of her presence came the feeling of being safely linked to his primary reality.

Something flickered in the darkness ahead. Exultation gripped Jonas. She was there. He caught a tantalizing glimpse of her standing very still, poised to flee but not yet giving in to the fear. Jonas gave her full marks for being in control of herself. The little tyrant was one gutsy lady.

But then, he had always known that. She’d been putting up one hell of a fight when he’d pulled Pedro off of her in that Mexican alley.

Jonas continued moving forward in the corridor. He took his time, concentrating on the feeling of being in control. On previous occasions when he entered the corridor he had always been forced to deal with the immediate impact of emotions and images that were waiting to swamp him. Entering the corridor had always meant going into battle. But not tonight. A vast relief and a sense of satisfaction poured through Jonas. There was no doubt that Verity’s presence strengthened him in some way.

Verity’s presence made it possible to tame the flickering ghosts of the past.

He would connect with Verity in the corridor and then he would turn to confront the ghosts.

Jonas pushed his way through the last of the shadows and found Verity waiting for him. She stood braced, her hands in small, determined fists at her sides. The feeling of being anchored grew stronger. A part of Jonas had the freedom now to make some observations.

One of the things he noticed was that he and Verity both appeared to be dressed exactly as they had been all evening. Apparently the mental images they constructed in their minds reflected current reality outside the corridor. The main difference was that inside the tunnel they each moved independently. In current time/space, neither one got up from the table, but inside the corridor each had full capability of movement.

Jonas saw the wariness in Verity’s eyes and tried a reassuring smile. He came to a halt in front of her, not touching her in the corridor.

“Hi,” he said, wondering if she would break and run.

“Hi, yourself,” Verity tore her gaze from his face and glanced around. “So this is it. huh?”

“This is it. Think of it as a tunnel through the sea. Instead of being surrounded by water, we’re surrounded by time. We’re immersed in it.”

Verity hugged herself and nervously rubbed her upper arms. “And you think that some bits and pieces of time enter this corridor?”

“When I handle an object that carries a strong load of emotion from the time frame I seem sensitive to, those emotions seep into the corridor. It’s as if they’re trying to relink with the object itself through me. It’s hard to explain, Verity, but it’s real.”

“There’s another explanation,” she said defensively.

“What’s that?”

“We might both be going crazy.”

Jonas shook his head. “Believe me, I’ve considered that possibility. But we’re not going crazy. Come with me. I want to see what happens when we face the emotional junk connected with the pistol.” He held out his hand.

Verity hesitated and then gave him her hand. He circled her wrist and tugged her gently down the corridor. He felt her flinch, but she made no protest. She was going to go through with this, just as she had promised. Jonas felt a wealth of gratitude and admiration well up in him.

They didn’t have to go far in the corridor to find what Jonas sought. They hadn’t gone more than a few steps into the swirling mists when the colorful, snaking tendrils appeared and began to curl hungrily around them.

The multicolored ribbons headed first toward Jonas like a pack of dogs cornering a fox. But then something happened. They slowed, veered aside, and slowly turned toward Verity.

“Jonas? What’s happening?” Verity shifted anxiously as the multicolored manifestations swirled around her. She batted at them with a free hand.

“They won’t hurt you. You’re not sensitive to them in the same way I am. But for some reason you’re a magnet for them. Your presence frees me, Verity. Together we’re a lot stronger than they are. Feel anything?”

“No,” she said quickly and then changed her mind. “Yes. I don’t know. It’s weird, Jonas.”

“I know. Don’t worry about it. I’m the main contact.”

“What’s it like for you?” she asked in hushed tones.

Jonas concentrated, enjoying for the first time the glorious sensation of really being in control of what he was facing. This wasn’t a firefight, for once. He didn’t have to battle these twisting, writhing things; he could handle them. This time he was the dominant force in the corridor.

Slowly he reached out with his free hand and touched one of the tendrils, a golden streamer that pulsed invitingly. The moment he made deliberate contact with it, it freed itself from the tangle surrounding it and leaped to coil around his arm.

Adrenaline pumped through Jonas’s veins. And then a new sense of awareness. It was someone else’s sense of awareness, not his own. He was standing on a grassy field at dawn, dressed in polished Hessian boots and pale fawn trousers. He was in his shirtsleeves. A manservant standing near the carriage held his green frock coat and black felt hat. There was a pistol in Jonas’s fist. The same pistol he was holding in the cabin.

A short distance away another man, similarly attired, held the mate to the weapon Jonas had. Both men were waiting for a signal from the man who stood between them. Somewhere in the distance a horse stamped and blew in the cold dawn air. Harness metal rattled. A few men stood at the side, observing. One of them was Jonas’s second, the man who had made the formal arrangements for this morning’s confrontation.

Jonas was aware of fear but it was held at bay by the surge of cold anger and adrenaline pumping through him. His only goal this morning was to draw blood from the man who had insulted Amanda. He would teach the bastard a lesson.

The signal came. Jonas lifted his pistol in a smooth, sure motion. But even as he did so, he knew somehow that the action wasn’t his. He was still an observer. His opponent’s hand also swept upward. But Jonas was already tightening his finger on the trigger of the heavy pistol, confident of the gun’s sure aim.

Then, without any warning, Verity screamed and yanked at his arm. For an instant all the images blurred. Jonas was both the man on the grassy field and the observer in the corridor. Furious at the distraction, Jonas tried to jerk free of Verity’s compelling grip. But she clung to him, yelling at him.

“Stop it! Do you hear me? Stop it this instant. I won’t have this foolishness carried any further.” She grabbed the golden ribbon and pulled it free. It slithered back into the tangle at her feet.

Jonas blinked at the upper-class English accent. His eyes widened.

“Amanda?”

“No, I’m not Amanda. I’m Verity. Come with me. We’re getting out of here.”

He turned back, seeing the images of the dawn-lit scene already fading rapidly.

Disoriented, Jonas whirled to face Verity. She was pulling at his arm and shouting commands.

“I said come with me, dammit.” The English accent was gone. The voice was once again Verity’s. “We’re getting out of here.”

“Honey, it’s okay.” Jonas tried to soothe her but she was already tugging him back down the corridor. “Everything’s under control. It’s all right. Just calm down, Verity. I want to do some exploring.”

“How do we get out of this corridor?” she demanded. Jonas became aware of the pistol in his hand. He opened his fingers and dropped it.

The corridor vanished at once. Jonas was again facing Verity across the small table.

It didn’t surprise him to realize that he was sexually aroused. Having experienced the same after-effects on the previous two occasions when he had encountered Verity in the corridor, he was expecting it. The only difference this time was that the desire to pull Verity down onto the nearest bed, strip her, and bury himself in her was stronger than ever. Sweat trickled down the side of his face.

“Well,” Emerson said, looking from one taut face to the other, “how was the minivacation?”

“We almost lost our traveler’s checks,” Verity said in a grim voice.

Chapter
Twelve

Jonas could feel
the tension radiating from Verity as he walked back with her to her cottage. It had a heightening effect on his already simmering desire. But he was determined to control himself tonight. Verity had had a traumatic experience this evening. The decent thing to do was to give her time to adjust. She was bound to want to talk it all out.

He told himself that if he was a gentleman he wouldn’t try to push her into bed tonight the way he had the last two times. He ought to show some respect for the effects of the experience on her. Tonight was a night to be spent soothing, gentling, and reassuring her. Jonas was determined to be gallant even if it took every ounce of willpower he possessed.

There was no doubt that Verity needed some soothing. He could almost see her nerve endings glowing in the dark. He wasn’t sure he could explain to her just why it was so important to him that he start testing himself, start seeing how far his talent could stretch. He wasn’t even certain he could explain it to himself. But he knew a strong sense of urgency, one he had felt ever since that morning when he awakened in Caitlin Evanger’s ugly house.

“Poor tyrant,” he said softly. “It really got to you, didn’t it?”

“Of course it got to me. What did you expect?” she snapped.

He winced. “Not quite what happened, I’ll admit.”

“What does that mean?” She peered up at him in the darkness.

Jonas paused, searching for words. “Verity, when I found your earring in that alley I knew there was something special about you. I knew you were more than a woman I wanted to take to bed. But I can’t really describe what I felt when I touched that earring. Just a sense of certainty. A sense that you were somehow important to me. I knew I had to find you and discover what it meant. I had never had that feeling about anyone else in my life.”